


We Could Have It So Much Better

by greenfairy13



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack, Episode Fix-it: s04e13 Journey's End, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, OT3, Plot With Porn, Smut, Swearing, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfairy13/pseuds/greenfairy13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna's mind doesn't burn up and she's furious when she finds out the Doctor left Rose and the meta-crisis behind. After threatening him with the wrath of a fiery red-head, they find a way back to the parallel universe and get Rose and Tentoo. Of course, both Time Lords want to consummate their relationship with Rose. A planet with a truth-field might just be the place to move them into the right direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Move, You Bloody Alien!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I totally promised an AU in which everyone will be human and I'm working on it but this idea just came to me and begged to be written down. Aaaand I always wanted to do some Rose x Ten x Tentoo smut cause what's better than one Doctor? Right! Two Doctors! This will be rather short - I assume 3 chapters, the last one containing the *ehem* main plot. This will be 100% angst free.

“Binary, binary, binary...”

 

_Shit!_

 

Donna knows something is wrong – terribly wrong. Her mind is stuck in an endless loop and the bloody alien git is approaching. Face set into an apologetic, solemn and sad expression, hands already darting out towards her temples, he has the clear intention to wipe her memory.

 

“One step closer and I'll slap you so hard you won't need your TARDIS anymore to travel in time,” Donna threatens, backing away and suppressing a pained moan as her neuronal connections start to implode. The nutter Martian is supposed to be the most brilliant creature in the entire universe and she has his memories – they gotta be good for something. Flipping through a millennia of knowledge, Donna tries finding a more satisfying solution to her current predicament.

 

“Donna, please,” the Time Lord pleas, scuffling slowly towards her, looking every bit like a zombie, what with his mouth hanging agape and his raised arms.

 

“Chameleon Arch!” she shrieks frantically, clutching the jump seat behind her.“Get the Time Lord outta me!”she screams. And the Time Lord freezes, just stands there, rooted to the spot and gapes for exactly 2.34 seconds.

 

“Move your skinny arse!” Donna snaps now in full panic mode. “My mind is burning up and I won't allow you to remove my memories!”

 

“Right, right, right,” the Doctor answers, tugging his hair, curling his tongue behind his teeth and finally jumping into action, he tears the Chameleon Arch out and shoves Donna forcefully into the apparatus.

 

“Donna, this is going to hurt – a lot,” he warns and the fiery red-head smacks his arm in response.

 

“Turn. It. On!” she commands and the pin-striped stick nods, jaw set tight.

 

_A bit later..._

 

“Oh my head,” Donna groans. As she slowly drifts back to consciousness, the Doctor's worried face swims slowly into focus. Lying on the TARDIS' floor, head on the cold grating, she's feeling completely knackered.

 

_Bloody brilliant._

 

_That's the reward for saving the entire universe?_

 

Before she has even a slight chance to recover, the Doctor pulls her up from the floor and into an almost painful embrace. Face buried in her hair and sobbing without restraint he mumbles, “I thought I'd lost you. Donna, your mind...it burnt and I..I.”

 

“Doctor, Doctor!” Donna chokes out as he's trying to crack her ribs. “For God's sake! I'm not a tissue! Stop smearing your alien snot into my hair! And release me before I choke.”

 

The Doctor obediently takes a step back and shoves his hands into his pockets. He looks as if someone just kicked his puppy: his hair is more of a mess than usually, his suit wrinkled and his eyes are red and puffy. Taking in her surroundings, Donna notes that the TARDIS is completely empty except for her and the crestfallen Time Lord.

 

“Where is everyone?” she asks in bewilderment.

 

“Gone,” he retorts, shrugging his bony shoulders.

 

“Gone?! What do you mean “gone”?” Donna pushes, studying the Doctor's expressions with a piercing glare.

 

“Donna, what do you remember?” he asks tentatively.

 

“The last thing I remember is the TARDIS being full of people celebrating the salvation of the multi-verse while you and your double were eye-shagging Rose,” the red-head huffs.

 

“I...I was NOT _eye-shagging_ Rose,” he sputters.

 

“Yeah, yeah – whatever,” Donna waves him off. “ _Where_ is she? Why do you look like the Daleks won after all?”

 

“Gone,” he repeats, schooling his expressions into a stony mask.

 

“Oh _no_ , space-boy! We already had that conversation! You can't have possibly lost her again in the last – what? 15 minutes?” she states, poking him forcefully into the chest.

 

Biting his lip and scooting both hands through his hair, he shakes his head. “Donna, you _approved_ of this,” he tells her stiffly. “When you were part Time Lord we agreed it's best to leave Rose and my meta-crisis back in Pete's world so they can have the life I've been dreaming about.”

 

“You did _what_?!” Donna shrieks appalled and really, superior hearing is _not_ a benefit right now. Covering his ears, the Doctor winces at his best mate's high-pitched screech. “And I _approved_ of that complete and utter bullshit?! What's wrong with Time Lords? Is there some genetic anomaly that makes you all go for the heart-ache?! The _love of your life_ returns and you do WHAT?!”

 

Holding his hands up in submission in an attempt to calm down his hysterical companion, the Doctor tries to reason, “Donna, _please_. It's for the best, it really is. What for should I keep her? Shall I watch her and my human sideways-regeneration wither and die?” He pauses and gives Donna a meaningful look. “ At least one regeneration of me gets to be totally happy,” he grumbles.

 

“Get your moody, bony arse up _right now_ and your girl back!” she commands in response. Straightening out her clothes she takes a determined step towards the console.

 

“It's impossible.” He glares at her.

 

“Oh, don't give me that, Martian! Whenever you say “impossible” you just don't want to do it! Seriously, I'm getting sick of your excuses.”

 

“Donna,” he says barely audible in his best Oncoming Storm voice, the one that makes Daleks wet their metallic shell, causing them to rust. “The walls between the universes have sealed off. I. Can't. Go. Back.”

 

“Oh really?” arching an eyebrow at him as she puffs out her chest, she steps deep into his personal space, not the slightest bit intimidated. “So my mind just almost burnt up cause a human-time-lord-meta-crisis does NOT work and you're leaving your Rose with _him_ on a fuckin beach? His brain will be toast in no time!”

 

The Doctor pales instantly and starts stuttering incoherent words.

 

“Oh shut it, dumbo!” Donna snaps. “You just saved all of creation. Don't do that self-depreciation shit.” Clapping her hands she adds, “Get moving! You won't win a medal for the boyfriend of the millennia if you leave your sweet-heart with a dying copy of yourself.”

 

“Donna, I _can't_ ,” he whines and Donna bolts.

 

Grabbing the Doctor's collar she yanks him towards her until they are face to face. “That you said before and look how wrong you were. _Move_!” she hisses and the Time Lord gulps. Daleks might be scary but they are _nothing_ compared to an infuriated Donna Noble.

 

Releasing the annoying, stubborn, self-destructive alien and taking in a deep breath, Donna calms down. “Look – I didn't exactly shine in physics at school but these walls between universes....they are like everything else made of atoms, right?”

 

The Doctor nods.

 

“Right,” she goes on, “So these atoms can be moved,right? If we...I don't know...cause them to vibrate – wouldn't the TARDIS be able to slip through?”

 

The Doctor's jaw drops. “Donna Noble, you are the most brilliant woman in all of creation,” he states in awe. “Wellll....right after Rose,” he adds, his hands already at the console.

 

 


	2. The Game Is On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two Time Lords start fighting for their Rose's attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, we're not at the good part yet (but I promise: they will all come!)

There's a certain procedure to some things. For example, if you not only save the Earth, not only the universe, but _every_ damn universe in existence, you're supposed get the mansion, the medal of honour and the hot blonde.

 

It's not like the Doctor cares much about medals or mansions - but he cares about the hot blonde. In fact, he cares enough about the blonde to give up his home-universe, his time-machine and change his entire species. Don't let it be said that he isn't proud of being a Time Lord, cause he is. He loves running around and shoving that fact into the lesser species faces and anyway – usually, you make an  _upgrade_ , not a  _downgrade_ . 

 

Of course, the hot blonde in question isn't just any beauty-queen but  _Rose Tyler –_ exception to  _every_ rule, defender of the Earth, and the dimension-crossing love of his life. And, when you're a millennia old, “love of your life” has some meaning to it. 

 

And right now, everything is absolutely _perfect_. Rose Tyler is holding his hand, stroking his thumb softly and gazing at him with love-filled eyes. He's got every intention to turn the chance he's been given into the _best_ life that would ever be lived. It's not even a problem he's practically a homeless person right now cause his girl is a _billionaire_. They could totally go to Barcelona, lie on the beach and... Well, there's a thought: Rose in a teensy weensy bikini. He's already licking his lips in anticipation when things turn pear-shaped _again_.

 

Like every fuckin time in his long existence, nothing goes according to the plan. Just when he's about to ride into the sunset, a wheezing, whooshing sound fills the air and a blue police box materialises.

 

_Bugger!_

 

The meta-crisis hears the TARDIS' doors being ripped open with gusto and whirling around, he's faced with his full Time Lord counterpart. Features frozen in determination, the other man stalks across the beach followed by Donna. Rose's eyes widen in shock and she let's go of his hand but else doesn't budge. She's obviously torn between running towards the other Doctor and staying at his side. Glaring at, well himself actually, he encircles his girl's waist possessively.

 

“TARDIS, now!” the Doctor in brown pin-stripes bellows commandingly.

 

“What do you think are you doing,” he scowls right back, a frown forming at his forehead and clutching Rose tightly.

 

“We need to get you into the Chameleon Arch!” Donna explains frantically.

 

“What?” he shrieks, voice a tad bit too high. But can one blame him? The Arch _hurts_ like hell and he thinks he's rather dashing – nothing he wants to change, thank you very much.

 

“The meta-crisis is unstable,” the Doctor elaborates impatiently while cleaning his glasses for show. “If we don't act right _now_ , your neuronal connections will implode and you'll die.”

 

At that, Rose lets out a muffled cry of utter terror while already starting to drag him towards the TARDIS. Stopping still in his tracks, he fights against Rose's insistent pull.

 

“I'm perfectly stable,” he argues grumpily.

 

“Rose, love!” Jackie calls from behind, not even the slightest bit surprised or worried. “Would you mind setting the teleport so I can go back to Tony? School's out in twenty!”

 

“Jackie!” the Doctor shots back appalled. “That's a serious life and death situation.”

 

“As always with you,” Jackie quips in return. “Now, would you mind getting me back to my son before you and my daughter start gallivanting across the universe again?” Huffing and pressing her arms into her hips, Jackie stomps towards the two Time Lords like an irritated rhinoceros. Poking her forefinger into the nearest Doctor's chest, she hisses, “It's Tony's birthday on Friday – I expect you, other you and my Rose to be there.”

 

Tugging his ear sheepishly, the Doctor studies the dirty tips of his Converse intently, “I'm afraid that's im-”

 

Reaching out, Jackie grabs the Doctor's earlobe and twisting it slightly she growls, “If you say the word “impossible” in my presence ever again, neither you nor your double will be able to give my daughter babies – are we clear on that?”

 

Both Doctors start sputtering simultaneously. “Jackie, we're not like that.” “We never...”

 

Jackie shushes them with a pointed glare. “Just restrain yourselves enough that my Rose is able to walk on Friday. I don't want to explain to Tony why his big sister waddles around.”

 

All of a sudden, the beach isn't that cold anymore – at least not for the two Time Lords and their Rose. Mortification rushes through their veins like hot liquid as their three faces light up in a deep fire truck red while Jackie grins mischievously and even worse – _knowingly_.

 

The Doctor in blue is the first to react. Snatching the teleport swiftly from Jacki's hands, he adjusts the settings. “See you on Friday,” he spits out through gritted teeth. Handing the device back he waves stiffly at Jackie who disappears in a flash of white light and both Doctor's exhale a breath they weren't aware they'd been holding.

 

Tapping his counterpart's shoulder the Doctor in brown asks only half jokingly, “You didn't send her into a black hole, did you?”

 

Turning slightly irritated towards his doppelgänger he answers, “What would I do that for? I'll never get into Rose's black-” Biting his tongues firmly, he stops talking. Scratching his neck awkwardly he glances at Rose from the corner of his eye, hoping against better knowledge, she hasn't noticed his choice of words.

 

Unfortunately, Rose looks as if she's very well aware of what he was about to say. Crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow sternly she says, “Now, that's a sentence I don't want you to finish.”

 

“Quite right,” he answers inconsiderately, wincing when Rose's frown deepens even further. “Ehm..wasn't there something about a neuronal implosion? Sounds very serious, we should definitely check on that. Or maybe I should get some sleep? After all, I Just regenerated, don't know what I'm saying, just rambling, me,” he babbles, walking quickly towards the TARDIS and hauling Rose with him.

 

Inside the TARDIS, the part human Doctor wants to head straight for his bedroom. Rose's fingers are still firmly clasped with his and well, it doesn't happen often Rose Tyler doesn't wander off. A man should take his opportunities, shouldn't he? After all, he has regeneration sickness and maybe Rose wants to take care of him?

 

And of course they just declared their love for each other. Well, technically he declared his love for her – she already did that two years ago. But it's not like he wants her to say it again, if she doesn't want to – a practical demonstration would be fine too, even better.

 

Of course, he doesn't even make it out of the console-room. Ganging up on him, both Donna and the other Doctor grab his skinny arms and start shoving him towards the Chameleon Arch.

 

His eyes widen in fear and he starts to protest naturally, “I don't think that's necessary. I'm fine, really, fit as a fiddle – could do with a good kippa, though.”

 

When nothing seems to stop his co-passengers, he finally throws his head back. Screaming, “Rooooose,” on top of his lungs, he crosses his fingers inwardly for his precious girl to set an end to this madness.

 

“Doctor!” she says to his utter relief. Stepping into the other Time Lord's path, she blocks their way to the abhorrent Chameleon Arch. “What do you think you're doing? Dropping me off in bloody Norway, coming back and now what? Looks like you wanna torture him!” she huffs.

 

“Rose, you don't understand. I made a mistake. The meta-crisis – he's unstable, his neuronal connections are going to implode if we don't help him,” the Doctor pleas.

 

“I'm fine! Totally fine!” the Doctor in question chimes in frantically. “Once I gathered what's going to happen, my superior time-lord-physiology fought the human DNA. No need to worry!”

 

The Doctor just gapes at him, not understanding.

 

“Welll,” tugging his ear, the Doctor in blue shots his double a scrutinizing look. “A bit thick, are we? As you undoubtedly gathered with Donna, the human and gallifreyan DNA weren't compatible. The reaction of the human DNA to my Time Lord physiology was akin to a virus...”

 

“Oi! Watch it spaceman!Whom are you calling a _virus_?” Donna asks miffed. Stomping over the granting, she glares at the two gulping aliens. “As if it's my fault,” she huffs as an afterthought.

 

“No, no, no!” they both reassure her hastily. “Your DNA is lovely, just not ehm...very compatible with Time Lords. Right! Were was I? Virus! Oh yes, the human DNA reacted like a virus in my system and I had to get it out. Mind me – I only have one heart and I was created by the energy of approximately 78,54372 % of an usual regeneration cause he,” he gestures impatiently at the Doctor in brown, “needed the remaining energy to heal himself.”

 

After a short pause he adds preening, “I'm 100% Time Lord, though.”

 

Taking in a deep breath, Rose swallows and her face darkens. “I get it,” she says brokenly.

 

“What?” both Doctors squeak startled.

 

“I get it. And I'm only human – and you're Time Lord. We're not compatible and you made a mistake.”

 

Averting her eyes, Rose turns towards the door. The two Time Lords almost trip over each other in their haste to block her path. Comically tugging and pushing each other, the two man make it impossible for their Rose to reach the exit.

 

Sighing, she says, “It's okay. Just,” she shrugs, “don't humiliate me any further.”

 

“What!?” they sputter as she tries pushing past them.

 

“Oi!” Donna bellows. “You two big space-dunces! Do you even notice what you're saying? Humans being a virus? 100% Time Lord? “ Shaking her head in annoyance, she glares at the two aliens.

 

Scooting his hand through his hear, the Doctor in blue finally speaks, “Rose – I meant it. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, how short or long our time given might be.”

 

Taking a hesitant step towards her, he settles his hands on her shoulders. “We can stay on the TARDIS and explore the universe or go to Jackie and Pete. We can go to Barcelona – any Barcelona. We can go and have chips, we can go shopping for hours. Rose, I don't care. I'll leave other me right here and the TARDIS behind. I just want _you_. That's all I care about.”

 

Tears start pricking her eyes and embracing her in his long arms, he softly begs her not to leave him. And finally! Rose melts into his touch, while his brown double stands stiffly and gaping like a fish dropped on land, next to him. Sending his doppelgänger a smug smirk, and grinning like the cat who caught the canary, he wraps his arm around Rose's waist.

 

After all that had been the plan, hadn't it? One gets a blue box, the other a pink and yellow goddess, and he's not willing to change the deal – at all.

 

“Wait!” Rose gasps startled. “What about other you? What will you do, Doctor? You gonna stay on your own?” she demands to know.

 

Scratching his neck and pleading with his eyes for Donna to help him, the tongue tied man fidgets with the fabric of his trousers.

 

“What dumbo so eloquently tries to say,” Donna drops in, “is that he can't live without you any longer.” The Doctor only nods solemnly, eyes trained at his beautiful human.

 

Releasing the other Doctor, Rose approaches him hesitantly. Searching his face, she asks him with her bright, honey-coloured eyes alone whether he wants her to stay or to go. Everything in him screams to reach out for her, to crush her towards his chest, to cover her mouth with his own, to hide her in the deepest depths of his time-ship where nothing will ever harm her again.

 

Instead, he only leans his forehead against hers and closing his eyes, he lets out a shuddering breath. And then, Rose's lovely pink hands are at the back of his neck and it takes all of his willpower not to purr like a kitten.

 

His Rose understands of course. As her face spreads into this gorgeous smile, the one that let him forget about the Daleks and run straight into their crossfire like the lovestruck fool he is, the entire console-room seems to brighten up.

 

Now it's his turn to grin smugly at his double over Rose's shoulder. Not even the other man's dark scowl can dampen his brilliant mood. Though, the look his blue doppelgänger is sending him could downgrade a Cyberman to a hard disk.

 

He isn't concerned though. There's nothing his counterpart can surprise him with anyway. Still, it's a bit unsettling when the other man's expression shifts without warning into an unreadable mask. He knows that look, he _invented_ it.

 

Eventually, his Rose releases him and turns to the blue-striped replica, a hesitant smile on her face.

 

“I take it we're staying then?” the second Doctor asks jovially, eyes shining brightly at the sight of their girl.

 

Biting her lips and ducking her head, Rose nods.

 

“Brilliant!” he exclaims, lifting her up and swirling her around in a hug. Setting her down, he leans over to the other Doctor.

 

“The game is on,” he hisses into his double-hearted double's ear. Gritting his teeth, he even growls slightly as his fingers dig possessively into Rose's hips.

 

“What did you say?” Rose asks in confusion.

 

“Nothing! Nothing!” he answers quickly, making a dismissive gesture and giving her a little peek on the nose. “Rose, I was in the middle of my regeneration when all that stuff with Davros and the apocalypse happened. I didn't get dressed yet. You know – new me, new clothes and all that.” Gesturing at himself and bouncing around he elicits a soft little giggle from their Rose.

 

Grinning brightly at his little victory, the Doctor excuses himself. As he walks swiftly towards the wardrobe, humming a soft tune, he looks way too happy and carefree for the two-hearted Doctor's taste. And then, just before the blue suited git can reach the door leading to the TARDIS' other rooms, he turns and directs his gaze at their girl.

 

“Rose Tyler, I love you,” he says honestly. “And I'll never again miss an opportunity to tell you.” Winking at his double, he disappears in the depths of the time-ship.

 

 


	3. Race Towards Completion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten, TenII and Rose are getting very happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooo...I promised Smut and here it is. I'm not 100% happy but it's only the second time I wrote something Explicit so bare with me and leave a comment. Pretty please? *puppy eyes*

“Humans,” the Doctor huffs inwardly, “always distracted by something shiny and new.”

 

And it's a bit understandable, really. This meta-crisis IS interesting. And absolutely  _not_ because he just sent the Daleks to hell, like he always wanted to do, but never did because, well...certainly NOT because he lacked a brilliant idea how to get rid of them. And he's definitely NOT interesting cause he speaks openly about his feelings, admits frankly how much  _he_ loves their Rose. This doppelgänger doesn't waste any time, he goes for what he wants, vocalises his thoughts – it's maddening. And he's certainly  _not_ jealous. 

 

And he is definitely NOT fascinating! The meta-crisis Doctor, this sideways-regeneration, that didn't come  _after_ him but lives in the  _same_ time-line as he does, is merely of scientific interest. Not more, definitely not. He's a little puzzle, an enigmatic mystery, something that happens once in a millennia, but not  _that_ extraordinary. 

 

And anyway, this cheap  _copy_ is not the Doctor – not while  _he's_ around. BUT, he gives him that, this other him is a bit dazzling and new. Still, when Rose's little fascination with him has worn off, she'll know WHO the real Doctor is.  _“The tongue-tied idiot who still can't tell her what she deserves to hear_ , _”_ a little voice he quickly tamps down whispers mockingly.

 

The Doctor knows what he has to do. He needs to work his magic, show Rose the stars, exotic planets, hold her hand and, and...yes, what then? He's got no clue how to have a relationship, how to do domestics. What would she expect? Would she want him to serve breakfast in bed? Whose bed anyway? His? Her? How does he even get her into his bed? And maybe, just maybe, before he thinks about bedding her, he should maybe kiss her? Isn't that the usual procedure? Is there maybe a protocol? Can one read up on that? He's fairly sure there comes some dating, kissing and holding hands first. They already did the holding hands part, though. And do all the alien planets they visited count as dates? Yes, no, maybe – Rose regarded the chips as date. Should he eat more chips? And how much is the socially reasonable amount of dating and kissing _before_ the fuc – no, that's just a rude way to put it.

 

And it wouldn't be that. It would be making love. Fantastic, brilliant, molto bene love. He would make her scream and shout his name, writhe in pleasure, spasm from lust until she wouldn't be able to remember her own name and...

 

Just as he tries imagining how her beautiful face would contort once if she'd indulged him, every light on the TARDIS goes out at once. The constant roaring of the time-rotor silences until it's barely audible, and his two human ladies gasp in surprise.

 

The Doctor directs a nervous glance at his Rose. The last time he looked, she had been standing close to the console, steadying herself there and he's feeling a bit guilty. His girl is so very tired after her dimension jumps, pale and thin and he's pushing her around, leaving her in Norway, coming back and splitting into two – admitted, he's not making this exactly easy.

 

However, every chivalrous thought about letting Rose retreat and catch some rest is forgotten when a single spot light goes on at the entrance door to the console room.

 

Music starts to play, barely audible at first but getting louder in constant perfection.

 

_Bam bam, da, da, dam_

 

_Bam bam, da, da, dam_

 

_Bam bam, da, da, dam_

 

_Bam bam, da, da, dam_

 

_We've come a long, long way together_

 

_Through the hard times, and the good_

 

_I have to – celebrate you, baby_

 

_I have to **praise** you like I should..._

 

The door opens at exactly this moment. The other Doctor is standing in the spotlight, grinning like a loon, staring intently at Rose. He's dressed in the tightest black leather pants the world has ever seen, pants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The garment hugs his long, muscular legs in all the right places, the low-riding cut exposes his sharp hip-bones and damn! The ridiculous excuse of a shirt he's sporting with the trousers, this impossibly tight piece of black fabric, doesn't even cover his abdomen fully, but leaves a strip of skin visible. Well defined abdominal muscles flex with each breath he's taking, causing the shirt to ride up more and showing off the soft hair that's covering his belly. His happy trail leads right down to his round, silver belt buckle, a belt buckle so big it has only  _ one  _ function: directing the viewers gaze at his crotch. 

 

The leather-clad Doctor's hips start swaying to the music as he starts singing along to the song.

 

“I have to praise you!”

 

He's coming closer, making a little spin and grinning brighter and brighter as more lights start going on, singing Fatboy Slim's “Praise You” now on top of his lungs, eyes never leaving Rose's face. He's  _ dancing _ towards her and just before he reaches their precious girl, drops himself to the ground and slides over to her on his knees. Waggling his eyebrows, he holds out his hand and as she takes it, he pulls himself upright and starts spinning her around, always singing “Praise You” into her ears.

 

Rose is giggling like mad, completely out of breath and holding onto his strong body for balance. Grabbing her hips, he directs them towards the jump-seat and lets himself fall backwards, causing Rose to land in his lap.

 

The Doctor growls low in his chest and his fist clench as he tries holding himself back from punching the bloody copy into his face.

 

Meanwhile, his Rose and the duplicate beam at each other like love-struck fools. Arching an eyebrow, Rose darts out to touch several silver chains dangling around the new Doctor's chest. She's sliding her fingers along the jewellery and the movement is really only a bad disguise for her touching his neck and chest. Purring like a kitten, the one-hearted Doctor leans into her touch as the man in pin-stripes feels his patience snap.

 

Walking over to the console, he pulls a lever with more force than exactly necessary and the TARDIS jerks violently, causing their passengers to fall off the jump-seat. They land in a heap of dangled limbs on the floor. The Doctor wonders furiously how the git can still laugh so loud with Rose lying atop of him.

 

Giving the meta-crisis Doctor her famous tongue-touched grin Rose asks, “Did you regenerate into a space-pirate?”

 

“Rose Tyler, don't tell me you're not fond of the leather.” Looking down at his legs he waggles his eyebrows suggestively and Rose blushes. “Plus, I'm developing, improving. Just look at the décor – other me must be stuck in some teenage grunge-phase. I'm an _adult_ rock-star now.”

 

Donna is meanwhile rooted to the spot, gaping at the one-hearted Doctor with a jaw-slacked expression. “Is that  _ eye-liner _ ?!” she finally sputters out. “Oh my God, Dumbo, you're seriously wearing  _ eye-liner _ .” And indeed – the Doctor's chocolate-coloured eyes are rimmed black, adding a blazing, smoldering quality to his usual, already intense expression. “You look like fuckin' gay Johnny Depp!” she adds appalled.

 

An entirely filthy grin spreads across the Doctor's face, who is still lying on the ground, Rose atop of him. “Not gay,” he whispers, liquid sin dripping from his tongue as he rolls his hips underneath Rose's pelvis.

 

The blonde gasps and jumps up in surprise. A half-appalled, half-curious expression shifts over her face as she stumbles over her own words. “But – but, you're _Time Lord_ , they don't do...Doctor, you're...” Words fail her, as she's frozen to the spot, looking helplessly from the Doctor on the ground to the one in pin-stripes.

 

“Oh, we most certainly do,” the man on the ground reassures her. “We have hardly been thinking about anything else since we found you in that department-store.” Smirking, he gets up and leaning forward he whispers, “But I can wait for you – as long as you want.” Rose shivers as he presses a little kiss to her throat. Delighted by her reaction, the Doctor starts sucking the spot and Rose's throat escapes a helpless little moan. “I won't have to wait long, will I?” he asks with a smug grin and Rose smacks his chest lightly.

 

“Oi! Casanova! Get a grip of your sonic-screwdriver,” Donna admonishes sternly. Turning to the other Doctor she whispers, “If you don't come up with a plan a right now, _your_ sonic-screwdriver will stay where it is.” Jaw set tight, the Doctor nods as his fingers beat the devil's tattoo on the console. “ _Do_ something!” the red-head hisses.

 

“I don't know what to do,” he definitely _not_ whines in response, cause Time Lords just don't whine.

 

“That guy is _you_ ,” Donna whispers back.

 

“Yeah – but a new me. He's got different quirks. Every time I regenerate, I become a new man, the man I want to be the moment I die. He's me but,” he shrugs helplessly. This new Doctor is him but where he still holds back, this new man has been born with the fierce determination to be with Rose. The other man is missing that last barrier that keeps him from completion.

 

“Well, standing there and watching them get closer is certainly not the way into her knickers,” Donna points out. “You said he's dangerous, killed all the Daleks. Maybe we have to make your girl aware of that?”

 

“I would have killed them myself, just lacked an idea,” the Doctor sighs, rubbing his temples wearily. At Donna's surprised glance he elaborates, “What? They would have never let us go, it's not I'm sad they're gone.”

 

“But you said...,” his best mate starts and for once, the Doctor is being honest.

 

“You can't expect me to play fair when it comes to Rose.”

 

“Well,” she shrugs. “Play then, Martian. You know your enemy – what's his biggest weakness?”

 

“I don't have weaknesses,” the Doctor huffs and Donna snorts.

 

“Wellll....,” the Doctor scratches his neck. “He just regenerated.”

 

“And that helps you how exactly?”

 

“He's got a complete one-track mind,” he grins mischievously. “All he thinks about is getting Rose. We just have to push him so far in his desire for her, that he spooks her away.”

 

“And you'll be there to consolidate her, right? Martian, you do want to mate after all,” Donna laughs out. But the the laughter dies off in her throat, “ _What_ thoughts exactly are you harvesting in your mind, alien?”

 

Turning crimson, he turns towards Rose and his duplicate. The two are chatting, he's bouncing around, explaining the meta-crisis and retelling some funny, happy adventures.

 

“So you see, Rose Tyler,” he finishes his little tale, preening, “I'm absolutely irresistible. Not even Shakespeare could keep his hands to himself in my presence.”

 

“I'd never contradict,” Rose tells him happily and the Doctor rolls his eyes.

 

“You make it sound like you wanted Shakespeare's hand on you – did the meta-crisis go wrong? Are you sure you're not playing for the other team now?” the Doctor teases his other self.

 

“Jealous?” he asks. “I bet you could make something of our dashing appearance too, if you'd just get rid off that hideous brown.”

 

“No! I love the brown,” Rose throws in quickly, earning herself a pout from one Doctor and self-pleased grin from the other one.

 

“Rose,” the Doctor in pin-stripes speaks finally, “I thought after this exhausting day we should catch some rest, bask in the sun, get some delicious food.”

 

“Doctor, are you suggesting a holiday?” Rose asks, taken off guard.

 

“Yup.” He happily pops the “p”, already pulling a lever, sending the TARDIS on her way.

 

The meta-crisis Doctor walks over to his double, a frown forming on his face as he reads the coordinates his other self has entered.

 

“What are you playing?” he demands to know through gritted teeth.

 

“Nothing,” the other Doctor says, perfecting the picture of innocence. “Just thought our girl might need to recover. Cause _I_ am being chivalrous, caring, thoughtful – characteristics you obviously lack.”

 

The TARDIS lands unusually soft and the Doctor makes an excited little hop as he swings around to grab his overcoat.

 

“I think I'll stay here,” Donna says, already walking towards her room.

 

“Oh no!” Rose exclaims in disappointment. “You can't stay here all alone while we have a good time.”

 

“Good time,” the fiery lady snorts. “I bet you'll have the best of time, but I might have to rip out my eyes, if I have to see these two skinny arses uncovered. Seriously Barbie, they're all yours.” Shaking her head, Donna retreats into the time ship, already happy to have the swimming-pool all to herself for a last time. Sure as hell, she won't use the pool again, once the three will have abused it in nefarious intent.

 

Shrugging, Rose walks towards the door, the two Doctors trailing closely after her.

 

“Rose Tyler! I give you Amoranis Gratia – home of the most comfortable wellness-hotel in the 47th century.”

 

“There is something about this planet,” the meta-crisis Doctor mutters, frowning as he takes in the beautiful surroundings.

 

They have landed in front of a gigantic hotel that just oozes luxury. Marble, granite, gold and spacious glass surfaces are greeting the three visitors, exotic, alien plants in bright colours are to be seen everywhere. There's a purple beach in the distance, vanilla-coloured water is crushing against the shore and lovely green mountains are visible in the distance. The air smells like lavender and the weather is perfect.

 

Leaning against her first Doctor and closing her eyes Rose sighs contentedly, “I missed this _so_ much. Stepping out of the TARDIS, taking in a new planet for the first time. Thank you, Doctor.” She's looking at him through her lashes, eyes moist from unshed tears and unable to hold back, she embraces him, snuggles into his chest. “I never thought I'd really find my way back home, my way back to you. My Doctor,” Rose sobs.

 

Now it's his time to smirk triumphantly. Taking her hand, he starts leading her to the hotel.

 

“My head,” the meta-crisis groans, grabbing his temples and oh bugger! Of course his compassionate Rose spins round to direct her care and attention back at his double – can nothing ever go according to the plan?!

 

“Doctor, what's wrong?” she asks, eyes huge and filled with dread for his well-being.

 

Licking his lips, his eyes start roaming her body. She's still in her black jeans and wearing her heavy boots. But her leather-jacket has been left behind in the TARDIS, and Rose is now only sporting one of her tight shirts. The kind of shirt that points out the soft swell of her marvellous, perfect breasts and shows her delicious cleavage. As the cool wind hits her skin, her teats tighten and the other man stares unashamedly.

 

“Nipples,” he states, predatory gleam in his eyes. Shaking his head furiously, he tries sobering up. “Nibbles!” he says now, a slightly manic quality to his voice. “I'm starving, let's get some ni _bb_ les!”

 

Grabbing the pin-striped Doctor's arm, and pulling him aside he whispers irritatedly, “What have you done to me?”

 

“Me?”he answers with wide puppy-eyes. “Nothing. Maybe the truth-field is affecting your new neuronal connections. Remember Amoranis Gratia? Telepathic couples come here to put the intensity of their feeling to test. The truth-field doesn't affect Time Lords as much tough, but as you're freshly born, you might have troubles,” he smirks.

 

“So what?” he hisses.

 

“You have NO self control, my friend. And with the truth-field, it won't take you long to say something exceptionally stupid – something that scares Rose right into my arms,” he explains haughtily. “You'll be _so_ easy – just look at you, space-pirate. You're only thinking about getting down on her.

 

“So do you,” he chunters. “You realise, everything I say out loud, you'd say too?” the Doctor in leather points out, arching a challenging eyebrow.

 

“Doesn't matter – we play a little good Doctor, bad Doctor and guess whom our precious girl will choose.” Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he leads the way on to the hotel.

 

“Idiot!” the one-hearted Doctor retorts impatiently. “Your plan will backfire. I know you better than anybody else and _your_ body has terrible telepathic defences. Remember Reneitte? The human got into your mind and transferred her feelings into us. We acted like a human drugged with a love-potion.”

 

Spinning on his heel and taking his legal position at Rose's side, the meta-crisis Doctor stomps ungracefully forward, leaving his doppelgänger once again gaping and sputtering behind.

 

Rose is starting to feel a bit dizzy too. Her two Time Lords just seem to can't stand each other, and it would be a lie to say she isn't surprised and thrilled to see her superior aliens harbours some filthy thoughts too. Sadly, her first Doctor still can't find it in him to act out on his feelings. Of course she knows he loves her just as much as his next self, and she's really trying hard not to direct her entire attention at this new, more open Doctor. Tries, and fails so far, she admonishes herself. After all, both men are her Doctor and Rose could never choose one over the other. She loved him when he had big ears, she loves the man in pin-stripes with the great hair and of course she loves the cheeky, overly sexual version of her adorable alien. How couldn't she?

 

Yet, this planet is somehow affecting her. Rose has to bite her tongue not to blurt out how gorgeous her lovely time traveller's bum looks in tight leather or how bad she wants to snog her first Doctor silly. Each and every thought on her mind wants to leave her mouth, wants to be spoken out loud but instead she bites her lips.

 

And of course there's a very pressing problem too. Now with two Doctors being around, Rose doesn't know exactly how to act. Both are holding her heart in their palms and she couldn't bare breaking one Doctor's heart. This new travelling-arrangement between her and her boys either has to stay platonic or her chauffeurs through space and time need to learn how to share.

 

“Share?” the Doctor in pin-stripes asks appalled and Rose flinches.

 

“Did I say that out loud,” she asks, face white as a wall.

 

He nods tense faced the same moment the other version of the time-travelling alien scrutinizes her with growing curiosity.

 

“Time Lords do not _share_ ,” he growls, voice low.

 

Tugging Rose along and making his way into the hotel, the other Doctor herds them into their room. He doesn't bother with any kind of formalism, just heads for the honey-moon suite.

 

“Ask him again in ten minutes, love,” he tells Rose with a wink, his self-control will snap in no time.

 

“What? Why?” she asks curiously.

 

“There's a truth-field on this planet and my previous body had rubbish telepathic defences. He walked into his own trap,” he elaborates.

 

Smiling mischievously, he sonics the door open and shoves his companions into a luxurious room dominated by the biggest, fluffiest bed Rose has ever seen. The head-board is coated with emerald-coloured leather, the blankets and pillows are made of silk and decorated with beautiful paisley-patterns in muted colours. Soft carpets and mahogany-wooden furniture complete the picture.

 

Swaying his hips seductively, the Doctor in leather swaggers over to the bed. Stretching shamelessly, he quirks an eyebrow at his other self. “We don't share. We don't fall in love. Mind me, there's an exception to every rule,” he states huskily.

 

“Not to this one,” he huffs, body going rigid.

 

“Oh, welllll...” he grins, curling his tongue behind his teeth and propping his head up on his arm, “don't lie. Our vanity has always been our weakest point. Right now, it might be the key.”

 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” the Doctor retorts, scrunching his face up in annoyance.

 

“You just love this particular body of ours so much,” the man on the bad whispers conspiratorially. “Come on, admit it – or no one's gonna come.”

 

Rose swallows heavily. She has a hard time believing her second Doctor is seriously suggesting a threesome, she must be hallucinating, or dreaming, or having eaten some alien food. Or, the most reasonable explanation: she died and this is heaven. You obviously get bonus-points in the afterlife when you saved the Earth a couple of times.

 

The Doctor in pin-stripes is meanwhile breathing heavily. The Oncoming Storm already visible in his eyes, body stiff and face frozen, he walks over to the bed.

 

“Get up,” he commands his duplicate in a low, dangerous voice. The other man just smirks.

 

“I said, get up,” he repeats. His voice is still merely a whisper, controlled. Yet, his body is trembling.

 

The second Doctor doesn't even flinch, just arches an eyebrow, “I told you the truth-field will make you snap.”

 

Rose is still standing at the door, torn between storming over to her Doctors and breathless anticipation. Her neck prickles and she can't decide whether to be terrified for her second Doctor, or being ridiculously turned on.

 

“Last warning: Get. Up,” the Doctor says, yanking at the other man's several necklaces. He slams his duplicates back into the wall next to the bed. Now standing only inches away from each other, their hot breaths mingling on their faces, the man in brown speaks again. “Is that what you want? How do you think this is going to work? Do you want my TARDIS? My Rose?”

 

“Oh yes,” he answers, eyes blown wide from lust.

 

“Hate to break it to you, copy. But, I. Do. Not. Share,” the original Doctor informs his duplicate, putting one hand at the other man's throat.

 

“Wellll....,” he starts in response, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. “I don't think we have much choice this time. Isn't that right, Rose? It's up to you, love,” he tells their girl, eyes flicking to her face.

 

“Up to me?” Rose asks incredulously.

 

“Oh yes,” both men say in unison.

 

“But how could I ever choose between the two of you? You're both my Doctor,” she stutters out, praying to every deity her first Doctor won't kill the meta-crisis. Judged by the expression on his face he's about to do just that – or fuck the other man senseless.

 

“Our girl's smart as that,” the duplicate states fondly.

 

“I'm a Time Lord, I'm more than 900 years old, I saw the universe burn to ashes and still found beauty – and love,” the original Doctor growls against his duplicate's neck. Looking at Rose over his shoulder, hand still firmly at the other man's throat, he adds “It's time I get my reward.”

 

With these words, the Doctor's lips crush down upon his doppelgänger's. Teeth click loudly as their mouths open in synchronised perfection and the wet flesh of their tongues starts fighting for dominance. There's no tenderness, no finesse to the Doctors messy kiss – just urgency.

 

Yanking the other man's hair forcefully, the first Doctor forces his twin to bare his neck to his lust. Licking and sucking his throat, the Doctor's hands start roaming his double's body. Both men hiss as he grinds his growing erection into the meta-crisis' pelvis. The second Doctor moans loudly as he cups him through his pants.

 

“It's time,” the man in brown whispers huskily, “you get rid off that absurd attire, _my counterpart._ ” The Doctor's left hand's fingers slide between skin and leather while his right hand is busy sliding the zip down. “ _Mine_ ,” he growls. The silver belt buckle clatters as he manages to unclasp it. He rips it from his twin's hips in one swift movement. Legs entangled, they walk over to the bed and just before Rose's orginal Doctor can push the meta-crisis onto it, the second man turns the tables.

 

Distracting the other him by squeezing the second man's swollen cock through his pants, he turns him round and throws him onto the soft pillows. Crawling over his double's body, the meta-crisis slides off his tie and rips his shirt open.

 

“Take your pants off,” the second Doctor orders softly as he gets off the bed and walks over to Rose. Eyes trained intently at his companions, and swallowing heavily, the two-hearted Doctor starts unlacing his trainers.

 

The second Doctor is meanwhile standing behind Rose. He's still dressed, just his pants are open, lowered enough to give view to his impressive erection. Long, adept fingers start caressing Rose's shoulders and bare arms, she can feel his hard length pressing into her bum and her head lolls back against his shoulder.

 

“I wonder,” he starts conversationally, “if you are already wet for us.”

 

“Always,” she moans and his fingers flick open her trousers and slide between her slick folds. He doesn't tease, just trusts two fingers into her heat. She rolls her hips over his hand in response.

 

“Rose Tyler,” he states in mock dismay, “you are _dripping_.”

 

Setting a fast, hard rhythm with one hand, he starts pulling her shirt over her head with the other and unclasping her bra. She shivers as he starts kissing his way down her spine. He feels her inner muscles tighten around his long fingers, knows she's getting close when her breath hitches and her hips start rolling faster. “As much as I enjoy that,” he whispers into her ear, “I don't want to fuck you with my hand for the first time.” She whimpers helplessly as he pulls out from her heat and starts pinching her nipples, always grinding his iron hard length into her bum.

 

Turning in his arms and standing up on tip-toes, Rose presses a desperate, heated kiss to his mouth. He opens eagerly, sucks her bottom lip, tastes every inch of her mouth impatiently. The kiss breaks when her small, soft hand encircles his cock and a needy whimper forms at the back of his throat as her thumb swipes over the moisture on the tip.

 

Dropping to her knees before him and steadying his hips with her hands, she engulfs him, swallows as much of him as her mouth can take, and he nearly comes right that moment.

 

“Fuck, Rose,” he spits out. “If you do this again without warning, this is going to be over very soon.”

 

She just smiles around his swollen cock, and giving him a cheeky glance from under her lashes, she swirls her tongue around him once again. His hands fist in the blonde strands of her hair and he just wants to trust into her hot mouth, wants to chase his release but manages to hold still.

 

“Not like that, at least not now,” he growls, pulling her up from the floor. Pointing at the original Doctor he asks her, “Do you see other me? How he's staring at us? Jaw-slacked, naked, vulnerable, bared to you and only you, on that bed? He wants to be inside you so badly, it's driving him insane. He was made for you, he was born with his love for you and the taste of your lips on his mind. Every atom inside him is screaming to fuck you, Rose Tyler.”

 

The blonde looks at her first Doctor, her pupils are blown wide and the burning fires of unhidden lust have swallowed the usual honey-colour of her eyes entirely.

 

“Take him, Rose,” her second Doctor moans. “He's all yours – we both are. We only exist because of you, we wouldn't live, wouldn't breathe if you hadn't saved us.”

 

The meta-crisis drops to his knees, lets his cock slide along her still jeans-clad legs and starts unlacing her shoes with trembling fingers and tugging down her pants. “Gorgeous,” he breathes and unable to resist, his tongue darts out to take a taste from her wetness. Flattening out his tongue, he trusts into her folds, licks and sucks and Rose is again close to the edge, ready to fall if he just lets her – of course he withdraws in time.

 

The Doctor on the bad is meanwhile panting heavily – not even his respiratory bypass can maintain steady breathing under the given circumstances.

 

She takes a hesitant step over to her first Doctor. Licking his lips in anticipation, he palms his impressive erection.

 

“Is it true?” she ask. “Is that what you want?”

 

“Tell me, Rose. Would you have accepted being left behind with him?” he presses in response, fingers encircling his length.

 

“I always wanted you – every you,” she answers.

 

“Than have us both – I'm done resisting,” he responds smirking and Rose pounces. Hands fisting into his hair, she latches onto his mouth, sucking and thrusting her tongue into him like she always intended to. Kissing her way along his jaw, she scoots down his chest, caresses the soft hair covering his abdomen. He sucks in a ragged breath and his hard abdominal muscles flex under her touch. She watches his reaction mesmerized until he cups her breasts and squeezes them tightly. Her nipples harden to the point of pain and leaning forward, he catches the puckered berry with his teeth. She arches further into him as he grazes the sensitive spot.

 

“Inside,” he pants from underneath. “Inside, inside, inside,” he begs, pleas, sobs. “I need to fuck you, need you to fuck me. Need to take you, have you.”

 

Rose can only nod as he sits up and encircles her waist with his long arms. Aligning him, she sinks down on his cock the same instant he pushes upwards with unhidden urgency. His iron hard length is almost too much – too big, too thick and _perfect_. He doesn't give her time to adjust, starts thrusting almost instantly. Grabbing her hips possessively, he forces her to ride with him. Rose doesn't know who's shagging whom when she loses herself in the feel of him and starts slamming down over and over again.

 

The second Doctor is suddenly behind them, naked except for the silver chains around his neck that feel cold and smooth on Rose's bare back. He stills their race for a second that feels like a painful eternity. Spitting in his hand and wetting his cock with his saliva, he pushes into Rose's back end and she cries out from the pleasures of pain and lust combined.

 

“Alright?” he asks the trembling woman in front of him.

 

“Brilliant,” she replies, despite feeling as if she'd just been staked. Sweat is pooling between her breasts and she shivers. Never before has she been so full. Her first Doctor traces the droplets of water running down her body carefully. Locking eyes with her, he thrust experimentally and she cries out. Her second Doctor encircles her waist and does the same. Peppering her back with soothing kisses, he utters loving nonsense into her ears.

 

“Relax,” he murmurs softly and her head lolls back against his chest.

 

“We love you,” her first Doctor tells her and Rose's eyes snap open in surprise.

 

“I love you too,” she whispers back, meaning both of them and every past and future version that might ever be.

 

Carefully, they start rocking again in an attempt to find their rhythm. It doesn't take them long. Rose had been made for her Doctors and her Doctors had been made for her.

“Let us inside,” the two men plead and Rose lets go.

 

A hoarse cry is being ripped from their three throats as her aliens push into her mind, connecting not only their bodies but their souls and Rose's intimate muscles clutch them in a vice-like grip. She's crushing through space and time, the bed beneath her disappears, dissolves into thin air and there's only the endlessness of their love for each other. The burden of a physical body vanishes as their minds entangle under the protection of a gigantic golden wolf and Rose is almost certain she _howls_ when she shatters around them.

 

She collapses bonelessly against her first Doctor's chest as they both pump everything they have deep inside her body. Their semen is cooler than a human's, more viscous and the rocking of their hips doesn't seem to stop as her two Doctors ride out the aftershocks of their orgasm.

 

Regaining some sort of coherent thought, Rose notices the awe-struck, loving expression on her first Doctor's face.

 

“You are telepathic,” he states in disbelief.

 

She's too tired and spent to do anything more than mumble in agreement.

 

“But, but...how?” her second Doctor wants to know from behind.

 

“Bad Wolf,” she replies curtly.

 

Closing his eyes, her Doctors try grasping the strands of her life-line.

 

“Rose, you're..,” they sputter out in unison.

 

“I know,” she responds, grinning mischievously. “Guess you two are stuck with me.”

 

“Welllll...., right now, we're stuck _in_ you,” her second Doctor chuckles.

 

“Rose?” her original Doctor asks. “How long are you going to stay with us?”

 

“Forever.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
